


Angels of the Snow

by NuttersandAcorn (orphan_account)



Series: Winter Challenge 2012 [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Crossover, M/M, Snow Angels, winter challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-03
Updated: 2012-12-03
Packaged: 2017-11-20 06:37:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/582376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/NuttersandAcorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One cold winter's night, Victor gets a gift he doesn't expect -- that only magic can bring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angels of the Snow

**Author's Note:**

> For the Winter Challenge. Day 8: 'Snow Angels'
> 
> (Why go the traditional route? This is much more fun.)

_It's rather windy and cold tonight, isn't it?_

Victor sparks the fire back up again. The cold winds from outside keep putting it out, and it was starting to get frustrating. He is out here for a reason, though, and he must stick to what the Ministry has assigned him to do.

There is a very dangerous wizard out there, and it was Victor's job to find him. For now, he was going ot be camped out in this little cabin for quite some time. It's very tough work, even for him. He glances out the window to watch the snow whip around the landscape in front of him.

_THUD!_

Victor jumps out of his warm stupor and goes to the window to see what had hit it. He grins at what he sees. "Cicero! Quickly, warm yourself up at the fire. Let me see that letter." Victor extracts the envelope tied to Cicero's leg, and the owl fluffs the snow off his wings as he rests near the fire. Victor had been expectig this letter for a few weeks now... He slices the top of it open with a letter opener and reads.

_Dear Victor,_

_I hope your chase is going well. He's in Russia as I write this letter, and I hope you are there too, as I instructed Cicero here to take this to you. Do make sure his wing wasn't shot by any wandering hunters. They won't know the difference._

_John is doing well. He proposed to that Mary girl by giving her a chocolate bar that he then Transfigured into a ring. Good one, she is. Follows us on cases a lot. How are you holding up? Your father giving you much trouble?_

_I was hoping that I could make it out to the cabin, but that snowstorm came in and I believe it's now almost impossible for me to arrive. A little magic might help, if I had any._

Victor's heart sank, but he kept reading.

_Mycroft's being held up with the Quidditch World Cup this year - England versus Austria, sounds like a doozy - and I'm betting you five Galleons that Austria wins._

_No more time to write. Felix got out and is chasing Cicero._

_Sherlock Holmes_

Felix is John's fluffy tabby cat, and had a tendency to chase everything that scurried or flapped that she could see. Victor chuckles and places the letter in a small box where he keeps all the other letters from Sherlock. He takes out his own quill and starts to write.

_Dear Sherlock,_

_I'm cold, but otherwise, I am doing okay. Cicero got here fine. He finds my fire rather content._

Speaking of the fire, Victor relights it with his wand. Cicero makes a chirp of approval.

_Sent my congrats to John, will you? Mary sounds rather patient._

His quill shakes a bit, creating a small line. No matter. Victor hides it with a quick tap of his wand. Muggles survive on something called 'White Out', whatever that was.

_I was hoping you could come. Stay safe if you do try to come anyway, knowing you. Oh, and I accept your bet. Five Galleons if England wins._

Victor pens the last words and rolls the letter up carefully. "Cicero. Take this back to Baker Street, will you?"

The owl hoots in reply and lets Victor tie the letter onto his leg. He flies out of the enchanted, open window, which is then closed.

Victor had started to drift again when he hears Cicero's excited squawking. "Stupid bird," he mutters as he stomps towards the door. Flinging it open, he's ready to snap at the owl, but something else catches his eye.

An angel of snow. No wonder Cicero seemed excited. Snow angels are said to bring whoever sees them something they deeply desire, but don't know of. If course, they're suppose to be only legends. "I can't believe it..." Victor stares as the angel flutters there for a minute before moving on. He rubs his eyes in tiredness. Best get to bed-

_"Victor!"_

A all-too familiar voice stops Victor from closing and locking the door. He squints into the flurry of snow, but doesn't see anything. _Crunch, crunch, crunch._ "Is that...?"

"Victor, yes, it's me! I decided on braving the storm! Got through alright." Sherlock comes into view, a worried grin on his face. He's bundled from head to toe in stiff winter clothes, and Cicero was wrapped in his arms. Victor knew the bird would probably starve if it wasn't the only means of communication between them.

Without waiting, Victor pulls Sherlock into a hug and kisses him, his hand tangling itself within the detective's hair. "I've missed you, you old git," Victor says after pulling away.

"You know, the fire would stop going out if you tried to filter out smoke while keeping wind out. There's a spell for that."

"There's always a spell for everything, Sherlock." 

Sherlock leans up and kisses Victor shortly and sweetly. Victor always compares it to what a snow angel's kiss is, and he believes them to be about the same. Sherlock is  _his_  snow angel, and he was happy about that. And what luck of seeing a snow angel before his arrival! Victor didn't believe that to be coincidence.

Sherlock gives a rather thoughtful smile. "I know there is, and... I'm going to teach you a new one."


End file.
